3 comments/ 23615 views/ 3 favorites The Hedge By: hoo_hoo_boo This story can be read in conjunction with "Redback". They are independent though. Saturday arrived much too quickly and I was on my laden bicycle going to confront the challenge of the hedge. I was a nerd but I could sell my skills door to door, quote a price, set a string line and cut a hedge. It paid the university fees. Between cutting hedges, sleep and study there wasn't time for anything else. The lady who employed me watched for a time as she sat on the steps of the verandah. I watched her too but being shy I was careful not to be obvious. As the subject of so much attention my work rate was high and I made good progress. The sweat was flowing and my shirt was sodden. Later, she brought me lemonade. As I drank I saw her hair was wet and she'd changed into a white, terry toweling dressing gown. It was, I thought, a little too small for her with a lot of cleavage showing. I did my best not to look as I handed the glass back and thanked her. "Washing day, first me and then everything else," she explained and gave me a meaningful look. "Everything!" she repeated, and walked slowly back to the house. I continued to work. It wasn't long and she was stooping and stretching as she pegged clothes on the clothes line. Her belt fell from around her and the dressing gown opened at the front. I couldn't see any thing, my view was from the side. She gathered the dressing gown around her and reached for her belt. I knew she'd want to know if I was looking so I cut something with the long handled pruners. The washing machine started a new cycle and I felt her watching again. I kept busy with the secateurs. Later, perhaps it was the smell of shampoo, I looked down. She was looking up at me. Our eyes met, I looked away and my eyes came to rest on her cleavage. I could feel myself flush red with embarrassment and checked to see whether she'd seen. She was looking at me, smiling. "I've got cordial and cake on the verandah" she said, after some time. As I climbed down she held the ladder for me. On the verandah we sat. She drank coffee. I drank cordial and ate cake. I tried not to but somehow I kept looking at her. The dressing gown was gaping at the top. I couldn't be certain but I thought she had nothing on under it. I could see a lot of one breast. "Your shirt, it's wet and dirty. I'm washing. Give it to me." Her hand was out waiting. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to take it off but her hand stayed there, waiting. Eventually I reached down, peeled it over my head and put it in her hand. "Thank you," she said, as she looked at my chest. We sat, silent for a while, before I got up and went back to work. It felt strange working without a shirt. I was sweating too, a wet sticky surface for all the dust and grime to settle on. I continued, cutting, sawing and pulling sections of hedge free. It was dirty work. The dust made me sneeze. Major renovations are always dirty. It didn't take long and I was black. Moments later she was under the clothes line with a bucket of clothes, stooping and stretching again. She was facing me. I kept busy with the pruning saw, cutting the biggest branches I could find, half an eye on my work and the rest on her. The belt was loosening again. Every time she stooped I could see more. The neck line was becoming longer and longer. I wondered whether she knew I was watching. I had a strange feeling I was being watched but knew she was too busy to be bothered with me. As the belt fell to the ground she turned away from me. I didn't see anything. I'd done enough sawing so I put down the saw and tried to pull a few branches free. As usual, they were too tangled at the top. I had to climb the ladder and use the snips. It was difficult work. I stretched to reach with one foot on the ladder and one on the hedge for balance. There was a noise. I looked down and she was looking up. "Lunch?" she asked. I was hungry. "Yes please!" She held the ladder as I climbed down. "Just look at you. You're so dirty. You'll have to have a shower before you eat," she said. I wasn't sure what to say but found I didn't have a chance to say anything. She'd turned and was walking away. I followed. "This way." she said when we were at the door. I followed her to the bathroom. She stopped and pointed. "Shower's in there, use the soap, shampoo and conditioner." With me now inside she pulled the door closed and left. Looking around I saw everything was very clean and tidy with lots of mirrors. The shower alcove was made of clear glass. I saw there was no lock on the bathroom door. I looked at myself in the mirror and was surprised. I was black all over and really did need a shower. I bent down to pull off my boots, socks, shorts and underpants. In the shower alcove, as I washed, the water going down the drain was dark brown for a while. I used the shampoo and had my eyes closed as I rinsed. Eventually, I opened my eyes. "Towel for you, and I've got your clothes to wash. I'm leaving some of my clothes. You can use them while I've got yours." I heard heard her say, as I turned away in case she was looking at me. The bathroom door closed and she was gone. When finished I turned off the taps and got out. The towel was soft and welcoming. I looked for some underpants but there were none. So I put on the shorts. They were very short shorts, with almost no leg and very wide. I needed something to hold them up. Luckily, I found a bobby pin. Then I put on the socks she'd left for me and my boots. She met me as I left the bathroom and I followed her out to the verandah where there were sandwiches waiting. I sat, leaned against a post as she sat opposite me and we started eating. I was hungry and thirsty. After eating a sandwich I reached for the glass of cordial and drank. Then I saw she was looking at me. "I chose those shorts well," she said. I was pleased to be complimented and looked down in agreement. I was very surprised because my dick was poking through the bottom of the shorts. I felt myself go bright red and I pulled at the shorts to make them cover me. I tried to push everything back into place but the shorts were too short. The more I tried, the more my dick was exposed and the more it grew. "Don't worry," she kept saying but I was worried. Being unsuccessful with pulling and pushing I eventually thought to turn myself so I was side on to her and didn't have more cause to be embarrassed. My dick continued to grow, it started to stiffen and rose from its hanging position to be standing, the purple head peeked out from inside its stretched foreskin and the veins along it's shaft were so swollen it looked like they would pop. My dick was enthusiastic in its display and had no regard for my feelings. I could feel the prickles of embarrassment. She watched as I tried to ignore it. I saw her craning for a better view and her dressing gown fell off one of her legs. I could see she had no knickers on because her whole hip was visible. My dick felt hot and throbbed. I wanted to touch it, enjoy its length and girth, and exploit its sensitivity but I didn't dare. I couldn't imagine what she would say if it was suddenly pumping out sperm. I couldn't think of what I'd say either. Instead, I sought to hide it, remove the temptation and not have to think about it. I reached down and taking hold of my dick tried to put it back inside the shorts. It wouldn't bend, it was so hard the skin simply slid down along the shaft. My foreskin retracted and the head of my dick was fully exposed. Thinking quickly, I undid the bobby pin and pulled the shorts down a little. With my curly, black pubic hair exposed I was able to get my throbbing dick inside. I pulled the shorts up and suddenly, as I was clicking the bobby pin, my dick managed to adjust its self. I felt the rasp of fabric as it suddenly dragged its head under the shorts and quivered as it escaped out of the other leg. I heard a little snort from her as she was trying not to laugh. I was determined not to look at her. I was so embarrassed. I felt a new flush of prickles race over my skin. I tried to cover my dick with my hands. They were shaking so much it wasn't a good idea. My dick's head was purple and swollen. The throb was so pronounced it was actually bouncing. I heard the snort of another suppressed laugh. I pushed the shorts down again. I could feel her eyes on me. I grabbed my dick firmly in my hand and pushed it under my shorts. The fabric of the shorts was rough against the tender skin. My dick was stretched up my belly, straining at the shorts and its head was poking out at the waist. I pulled the shorts up to cover and noticed my balls were hanging out at the bottom. I couldn't look at her. I knew she was laughing. She must have been. I pulled the shorts down to cover my balls. and, once more, the head of my dick poked out above the waist of the shorts. I put my hands over it again so I could think. With my hands shaking and by dick bouncing it was all involuntary movement. I thought I could make my dick sit diagonally under the shorts. I took it in my hand and began to move it. Perhaps it was a mistake. The sliding skin was difficult for my shaking hands to hold. The head was a very dark purple. I was determined. I pushed at my dick and suddenly I knew all was lost. I felt the trigger and the rush started. I wanted to stop it. The wait wasn't long, perhaps two seconds. There was nothing I could do. It felt like a train rushing through me. If only the earth could open up. My dick suddenly sprayed a huge, white, liquid rope up my belly onto my chest. The back of my neck and ears were burning. Another spray followed. I heard her snort and the clap of her hands as a third rope added its self to the mess on my belly and chest. She coughed, she was laughing, I could hear her. There was nothing I could do. All I wanted was to curl up and die. I was so embarrassed. My dick continued to pump its self out over me and finished with a dribble. I could feel her watching and she didn't miss any detail. I knew she could start laughing uncontrollably with very little provocation. She handed me a serviette. I started mopping up. Five more serviettes she handed me before I was dry. I still couldn't look at her. My dick slowly shrank and eventually I was able to tuck it back inside the shorts. Finally respectable I looked up at her, wondering what she was doing and thinking. She was sitting as though nothing had happened, her face seemed to be immobilized but her eyes moved, quickly taking in the surroundings and returning to the shorts. She threw the side of her dressing gown back over her leg and tidied the placement of it. There was silence before she asked about my trimming hedges which helped me relax a little. I was honest and told her I'd been cutting them for two years. She asked whether I trimmed anything else and I wondered what she meant. I couldn't relax very much because while she was talking I felt I had to look at her. I wasn't sure how I could look at her, the dressing gown had come apart at the front and I could see her chest, from her neck to the belt, between her breasts. Luckily they were covered. I wouldn't have known what to do if they weren't. I didn't want my dick to be making a repeat performance. Soon there was nothing left to eat so I got up and after thanking her went back to work. While I was working, several times, I thought I could hear laughter coming from inside the house. The Hedge Ever noticed how there is always someone who has to be different? Take the street I live in for an example. All the houses have similar sorts of front gardens. Typically, a low or no fence, a lot of lawn and flower beds running around the edges. There's a lot of variation between them, but they all seem to follow the same generic plan. Except one place. This guy has a hedge. It's not your standard privet hedge or anything like that. From what I can see, the guy planted a series of different bushy type trees and then just let them run into each other. The result has been this dense hedge of bushes all running into each other, and no way to tell where one bush finishes and another starts. Some of the bushes are actually intertwined with each other. I'll admit the owner keeps them trimmed, but the final result had been a hedge about six foot high and six foot deep, except for one lone yucca that has been allowed to grow, sticking up out of the thicket like a sentinel. Recently, one of the bushes carked it. It didn't just die and have to be pulled out. It just fell over, out onto the footpath. The owner removed it pretty smartly but the hedge now looks as though some passing animal had taken a big bite out of it. There's this gap about four feet wide and four feet deep. Lazy sod hasn't bothered to plant anything new; he seems quite happy to let the remaining bushes spread out until they fill that area. Walking past this morning, on the way to work, I saw that some wag had placed an old chair in the gap so anyone who wants to take a break can sit down for a while. Ha. Good luck with that. I'll lay odds that the chair is stolen before the week is out. Now you're probably wondering why I've been rabbiting on about this hedge and its missing bite. It's like this. . . I work night shift as a checkout chick down at Big W. Our Manager has always insisted that the night shift girls be adults. He apparently feels that if the girls on at night are under age he has to spring for a taxi voucher if they go home after ten. Adults he doesn't, as they usually have their own cars or they can take public transport. Being an adult I don't rate a taxi, but there's an excellent bus service with a stop right at the end of my street. I disembark, trot down the street, and I'm home, and I don't have to worry about crazy drivers on the road. On this particular night I'd knocked off and found that my normal bus wasn't running. It had been involved in an accident and I had to wait for the next one. It was pushing eleven when the bus dropped me off at my stop and I was five minutes from home. I just ambled casually down the street, heading home, the way I've done a hundred times before. I was passing that damned hedge and had just reached the bite out of it when it happened. An arm reached out of the hedge, grabbed me and pulled me into the bite. One moment I'm walking along, the next I'm sitting on the knee of someone who was sitting on the old chair that someone had put in the bite. "Speak quietly if you're going to say anything," a soft voice advised me. "Screaming would make me very nervous and I'd have to take steps to stop it. You don't want duct tape on your mouth, believe me." I believed him. I knew very well that I didn't want to have my mouth taped shut. "Who are you and what do you want?" I hissed at him. "Let me go." "Who I am doesn't matter," he replied. "As to what I want, what the fuck do you think I want when I drag a woman off the street and into my temporary lair? I'm going to fuck you. If you cooperate, fine. If you don't, still fine from my point of view." To add to this assertion, his hand was running up my leg, sliding under my dress and already pressing against my panties. I started struggling, trying to push myself up away from him, but the arm he had around my waist was like a bar of iron. I couldn't budge it. "It's going to happen," I was told. "You might as well just relax." Yeah. Easy for him to say. He wasn't the unwilling victim. I considered screaming and actually took a deep breath. A finger promptly poked me in the side so I lost my breath. "Remember the duct tape," came the warning. "No more chances." So I resorted to struggling some more. After all, there was no guarantee that anyone would hear me if I screamed or would do anything if they did hear. I tried clawing at his wrist, and found myself cursing the fact that I played netball and had short nails. I was so going to grow some decent claws. To my intense irritation, my attempts at clawing him didn't even seem to register. What did register was the fact that he was already pulling my panties down. I kicked and squirmed and my panties went down anyway. With my panties down as far as my knees I found myself being turned over so that I was bent over his knee. One hand held me in position while the other finished stripping off my panties and then went exploring. My skirt had been pushed up out of the way and his hand was freely roaming over my bottom, trying to push down into the gap between my legs. I kept my legs tightly closed, but he still managed to ease a finger into the gap, gently poking my softer flesh. "Move your legs apart," came the request. "Fuck you," I sweetly replied. "That is my intention. You know, I bet if I smacked your bottom hard, no one would hear it." This threat was followed up by a sharp slap to my bottom. Not really hard, but enough to sting. On landing, his hand slid back to the gap at the top of my legs. "Your choice," he murmured. "Spread them or I keep spanking until you do." Muttering rude words under my breath I relaxed my legs a little, feeling his hand take immediate advantage. His hand closed over my mound, squeezed, and started massaging, rubbing and probing. He just kept on doing it, working over my pussy, kneading it and sliding fingers in where they should not go uninvited. "What the hell are you trying to prove?" I demanded. "Not proving anything," came the reply. "I'm just making sure you're juiced up before I take you. Seeing you're the one getting the cock, you shouldn't be complaining about it." But I didn't want to be juiced up, as he so eloquently put it, and neither did I want the cock, and I told him so in no uncertain terms. In reply he just kept on teasing me and, although I hate to admit it, getting me aroused. I was twisting and squirming while he fingered me, taking his time and plainly enjoying his work. While he was doing this a couple of cars drove past. Were the drivers blind? Couldn't they see what was happening? Probably not, I realized, as we were in the bite taken out of the hedge. They'd only be able to see something if they stopped dead opposite and shone a torch into the darkness. Who'd have believed that you could be jumped in the middle of the street without anyone noticing? I found myself swung back onto my feet, facing him. His hands were on my bottom, drawing me closer, forcing me to straddle him. It suddenly registered with me that I could feel his erection pressing against me. "Sit down," came the quiet command, while at the same time his hands increased the pressure on my bottom, pulling me closer and down. "Are you mad?" I hissed at him. "Do you really think I'm going to sit on that?" The hell I would. What did he take me for, an idiot? Apparently the answer to that was, yes, he did think I was an idiot. "You might as well sit," he said. "You're going to have to take it sooner or later, so why not now and get it over and done with?" He might have had a point, but I was damned if I was going to admit it. I tried to pull back but the man seemed to have a gorilla's strength. He just kept pulling me closer. It wasn't long and I could feel the head of his erection pressing firmly against my slit. "Sit down," came the firm order. "If you do, you can guide me into place. If you don't, you take your chances on where I stick it first. It's going to happen and we both know it." Unfortunately, he was right. It was going to happen. I didn't see any way to prevent it. I groaned and let myself settle slightly, feeling his cock easing between my lips. From there on it was all downhill. I slowly settled onto his lap, feeling his cock sink deep into me, sliding deeper all the time. Then I was sitting astride him, his cock well and truly inside me. "Well done," came the congratulation. "Now just stay like that for a few moments." With that he started pushing up my top, lifting it clear of my breasts. My bra joined the top. He didn't even both undoing it, just dragging it up and over my breasts, scraping against my nipples as it went. His hands closed over my breasts, squeezing them. "Feel free to start bouncing," he told me, and I could feel his groin pressing hard against mine and relaxing again. My first inclination was to just sit there like a lump. If he wanted movement, let him provide it. Then I changed my mind. Left to himself he might keep going for ages. If I started bouncing I should be able to get him off in double quick time. I started bouncing, moving up and down his shaft, making sure I clung tightly as I sank down onto him, hoping to maximise his pleasure and minimise his time. It half worked. I certainly seemed to be maximizing his pleasure from the way he was gasping and pushing up into me. The trouble was that it was also getting to me, and it didn't seem to be minimising his time. I bounced and he pushed hard to meet me, apparently relishing my movements and not wanting to finish any time soon. My own excitement was rising rapidly, and I was having confused feelings about ending this little episode. While I was quite happy to have things finished and him gone, I'd just as soon they not finish until I'd come, and even as excited as I now was, I wasn't ready yet. Not having much say in the matter, anyway, I just kept on bouncing, feeling the long hard length of him driving up into me with every bounce. Mind you, the fact that he was showing a good degree of expertise in stimulating my breasts didn't help my general feeling. I found myself resenting the fact that he could do this while enjoying the way the stimulation was adding to my overall pleasure. And he kept on going. I was starting to tire as bouncing up and down like that was quite strenuous, but there was no way I'd admit it. Let him think he'd outlasted me? He could rot before I'd admit it. I just continued bouncing merrily away, with one little difference. I was starting to squeeze and gyrate a little as I bounced, wanting to push myself up over the edge. He, I was fairly sure, was due to blow his cork at any moment. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't left behind when he did. Eventually it dawned on me that the son-of-a-bitch was cheating. I'd be breathing hard, gasping even, all ready to finish, and he'd do something that seemed to make me cool off a little, letting him continue on his merry way. No way was I letting him get away with that. I bided my time, waiting until I was right up there and on the edge. Then I clamped tight hold of his cock, driving myself hard onto it, and I was climaxing before he knew I was ready. It was just a pity that my climax was enough to make him shoot his load. I could feel his seed splashing deep in me as he groaned and jerked under me, his hands clutching tight to my breasts. I was out of it for a few moments at that stage. I was vaguely aware of him lifting me off his lap and sitting me on the chair. When I finally got my act together I was still sitting on the chair, breathing hard and with a silly smile on my face, feeling really relaxed. He was nowhere in sight. I just sat there for a few moments, trying to get my thoughts in order. There wasn't really much I could do or say. He came, he saw, he fucked me good and hard and made me enjoy it. Now all he had to do was make sure I never find out who he is. I got up off that silly chair and headed on home - pantiless. The brute had taken a souvenir.